


Ruggine

by Hanatsu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28612581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanatsu/pseuds/Hanatsu
Summary: ''You know'', Shouyou says suddenly, breaking the silence. ''I don't have freckles only on my face.''
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 6
Kudos: 183





	Ruggine

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Sooo, uhm, this is a very bad attempt of translation. English is not my first language (and to be honest I suck at it, I don't know why I'm even here), but well I hope you can enjoy this stupid thing anyway! Sorry for all the mistakes! (Oh, and you can find the same fanfiction in italian on EFP)

''Shouyou-kun'' exclaims Atsumu amazed, observing his face. ''Ya have freckles!''

Sakusa snorts, shaking his head with a tired expression. ''You're a fox, Atsumu. I'm truly impressed.''

''I never noticed!''

''Well, you can't see them very well in winter, so it's fine'', Shouyou smiles, before biting the last onigiri.

''How many do you have?''

''I haven't counted them yet'', Shouyou mumbles with his mouth full, shrugging. Then he giggles. ''Do you want to do that?''

''I'm going to my room '', Sakusa interrupts them, his nose wrinkled in a disgusted expression. ''You two clear up.''

Shouyou wishes him an enthusiastic good night. Atsumu, equally polite, offers him his middle finger and snaps his tongue in irritation.

After eating the last grains of rice, they wash and dry the dishes. Then Atsumu brushes his teeth and follows Shouyou to his room, throwing himself down on the bed. They’re in the habit of watching something together before going to sleep. Mostly volleyball matches, but also TV series and post-apocalyptic movies. Atsumu actually hates them, but Shouyou loves zombies, so he's forced to share the same enthusiasm in order to get an excuse to stay close - very close - to him. The positive aspect is that Shouyou owns an iPad pro, probably more expensive than the entire sum of his possessions, a birthday gift from Kenma. Atsumu still has some skepticism about the nature of their relationship (what kind of friend offers itself to sponsor you for two years in Rio de Janeiro without expecting anything in return?), but as long as he can take advantage of it, Atsumu asks no questions. 

Besides, there's something exciting in Shouyou's room that puts him in a good mood. Maybe it's the warm-colored posters on the walls, maybe it's the palm-shaped bedside lamp he brought back from Brazil, maybe it's the Zoro action figures that stand out on the shelf. Maybe it's the photos of Karasuno, or the ones with his mother, his sister, and with all the people he cares about, stuck with yellow pins on the cork board. In more than one, Atsumu is there too. And it's embarrassing, the amount of happiness and pride that blossoms in his stomach as soon as he finds himself looking at them.

Or maybe, it's just the fact that Shouyou's there, next to him. And the good smell that permeates the pillow and the sheets.

''Do you wanna watch a tv show?''

Atsumu nods, then he grabs the tablet from the bedside table, enters the code (2-1-1-0) and opens the Netflix app. Shouyou lies down next to him, propping himself up on his elbows.

''You know'' he says suddenly, breaking the silence as Atsumu is about to click on 'The Queen's Gambit'. ''I don’t have freckles only on my face.''

Atsumu stiffens, caught off guard, then he looks away from Anya Taylor-Joy's face and fixes his gaze on the other one. He finds the sunset on his cheeks.

''Ya don't?''

''Nope. Do you want to see?''

Atsumu swallows, agitated. A shiver runs through the back of his neck, similar to a warning. 

''All right, let me see'', he replies, his voice sounding unexpectedly cracked. That's a very dangerous choice, but Atsumu decides to ignore his own conscience.

He’s the best at making bad decisions.

He’s the best at everything, to be honest.

Shouyou then settles on his knees on the thin mattress, turning his back to him, and then he gets rid of the sweater.

Atsumu can't stop his cheeks from burning up. He has already seen Shouyou half naked in the gym, but in that moment there's something way more intimate floating in the air.

''So? Can you see them?''

Atsumu gets close to him, and notices that freckles are everywhere: sprayed on his shoulders, on his neck, behind his ears. Lentils of the most disparate sizes, copper dust sprinkled on the epidermis like powdered sugar. Atsumu hesitates, holding his breath, forcing himself to remain calm, to stay still, yet his heart treacherously accelerates.

_Tum tum. Tum tum. Tum tum. Tumtumtum. Tumtumtum._

He stretches out his tapered fingers and caresses the freckles as if they were made of sand and crystal. They remind him of the colour of rust.

Atsumu slides his hand along Shouyou's neck, then he traces an imaginary line along his spine, connecting all the vertebrae together - they are so small, so tiny, disarmingly sweet. He hesitates as soon as he feels Shouyou's skin stiffen beneath his touch, becoming sandpaper. Shivers run down his arms. Maybe it's because it's December, but Atsumu wants to think that Shouyou is trembling like a leaf because of him.

As soon as he realizes the impatience that has weighed down his breath and hardened his hips, he freezes and retracts his arm. It's not that he lacks initiative, however with Shouyou it's different, and not only because he's a teammate. 

''Don't stop'', Shouyou says, in a whisper that echoes crystalline in the silence of the room. Rather than a request, Shouyou's sentence sounds more like a confession.

With his heart beating wildly, Atsumu swallows agitated, with a ringing in his ears that resembles a swarm of wasps. He should stop, he should run away, because Shouyou is too unpredictable and sometimes he scares him. Yet, his back is bare, trembling like the water surface, vibrating as he waits to be touched, bitten, torn apart. Atsumu's eyes sparkle at the thought of sticking his nails inside it.

So, he places a first kiss behind the pavilion of his ear, which appears tiny and irresistible among the auburn locks that softly curl upwards. He places a second kiss at the base of his neck, then a third in the curve between his neck and shoulder. Shouyou remains silent. Atsumu cannot see his face, however he notices his fingers tighten around the sheets and his breath accelerates, becomes heavier.

''Again.''

The little hesitation he had left, vanishes completely in a snort. Atsumu is determined to cover every inch of bare skin with his lips. He wants to leave a kiss for every single freckle he sees, so he wraps his arms around Shouyou's stomach and pulls him close, continuing to shower him with kisses as delicate as snow crystals.

Shouyou exhales a breath in between the frustrated and the satisfied, rubbing and clinging to his chest. The fuse ignites, a roar echoes in his sternum. The light kisses turn into hungry bites, the balsamic snow that flakes becomes first hail and then storm. Atsumu caresses his belly, pinches it, sinks his nails into it and scratches it as he tastes and licks his skin. Finally, he sneaks under the elastic of his pants, continuing to pierce his shoulder blades using his teeth. He feels the hot steel under his fingers and then his ears flare up, the blood pumping euphorically, pulsing like a drum.

With an impatient moan, Shouyou turns around. Atsumu finds the same embarrassment reflected on his red cheeks, as his eyes shine dazzlingly. Shouyou is glowing like molten copper, and hunger, lust and desire are embedded in his amber irises, glittering like coins. 

With his teeth bared in a smile, Shouyou ties his arms around his neck. Atsumu can't understand how his lips can be curved into such an awkward and innocent expression, yet so lethal.

The tips of their noses touch. Shouyou closes his eyelids and kisses him. His lips are thin but soft, and up close Atsumu can see his carrot-colored lashes fluttering in agitation, long enough to intertwine with his own. Atsumu can no longer distinguish the difference between a second and the infinity.

They kiss again and again _and again_ , knotted tight, their warm breaths that keep chasing each other and Shouyou's mouth tasting of caramel and poison. Shouyou keeps his eyes closed, occasionally allowing himself to peek, while Atsumu continues to observe his face, unearthing more freckles on his forehead and under his browbone. 

More freckles means more kisses to give, that's the only mathematical equation Atsumu will ever be able to understand.

He could kiss him for hours, for days, for years, forever. Muffled moans echo through the room as they search for each other, find each other, hold each other, scratch each other, bite each other. Streamers crackle in their ears and behind the eyelids, fireworks bloom like red lilies in their stomachs and groins. Shouyou rubs his waist against him, and Atsumu growls frustrated. Then Shouyou moves away from his mouth, _it't cold_ , and he starts fumbling with his pants, before taking them off along with his boxers.

Atsumu is now naked. Outside and inside. He never felt so exposed and vulnerable - _it's cold, it's cold, it's cold_.

Shouyou straddles him, caressing his chest and stomach while radiating a light of sincere admiration from his gaze, his lips stretched into a satisfied, euphoric expression. Then he brings his face closer to his neck and begins to print moist kisses and not-so-gentle bites on his collarbones, before starting to move downwards.

Atsumu clenches his teeth and tightens his fingers around the sheets until his knuckles whiten, frustrated, impatient - _scared?_

Shouyou bites his nipple, then licks his ribs taking all his time, his tongue gently gliding over his stomach, his label, and… _Oh._

_For_

_fuck's_

_sake_

Shouyou literally starts sucking the shit out of him. Atsumu doesn't see stars, he sees entire galaxies. Blinding, iridescent flashes begin to sparkle behind his eyelids and suddenly everything ceases to exist. The bed disappears, the room disappears, the volleyball disappears. All that remains is him and the feeling of Shouyou's hot tongue running over him like lava flow.

''Fuck'' slurs Atsumu reclining his head back, shaken by a fierce shiver.

_Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit._

Shouyou's lips stretch into a smile as he continues to move his head up and down, now slowly, now quickly. Slowly, slowly, quickly, very quickly, slowly, quickly.

_Shouyou_

_Shouyou_

_Shouyou_

Atsumu can't tell if he's shouting, growling, whispering, imploring. Apparently, Shouyou sucks cocks as good as he plays volleyball. The hunger, the commitment, and the diligence are exactly the same.

Atsumu puffs like a teapot, then strings his thighs and abdomen and twists his fingers through Shouyou's ginger curls. With his mind totally clouded, he first pulls up his hair- he wants to hurt him -, then pushes his head down with all the strength he has. Shouyou chokes and coughs on top of him, but Atsumu doesn't care, his only concern is to fuck his throat, and getting deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

Shouyou chooses to obey him for a few moments, lending himself to his game and letting Atsumu manipulate him like a puppet. The orgasm mounts unstoppably, Atsumu feels it in his bowels and between his thighs, and at the thought of cumming in his little mouth, he feels an excitement so intense, almost painful, that makes him think that he's not gonna survive.

Shouyou, however, doesn't let him. Suddenly, he shakes Atsumu's arm off and straightens his back, _it's cold again_ , with a sly smile that widens guilty as soon as he meets Atsumu's enraged gaze, furious at having just missed the chance to experience the most spatial orgasm of his entire existence.

''I hate ya'', Atsumu says in a growl, exasperated, _hurt_.

The other giggles, then lies on top of him and the shivers barely subside. ''It's just that we can do better than this, can't we?''

Atsumu mumbles an assent and sullenly shrugs. Shouyou interwines his hands in his gel-hardened hair, and kisses him as if it was the last kiss of his life, with such passion and vehemence that Atsumu turns into a pat of butter, nothing but clay submitted to his lips.

At that moment, to his enormous disappointment, Atsumu realizes that the other still has his pants on. So, he urgently takes them off, then pulls him close, licks his ear and bites his neck. That combination, that hypnotic motif of moans and shivers, is the most dazzling and mesmerizing symphony he has ever heard.

''Open yer mouth'', Atsumu says, and Shouyou obeys.

Atsumu slips his index and middle fingers in it, wondering if he won't reach orgasm by simply feeling the other's soft tongue rolling voluptuously along his phalanges like climbing ivy. As soon as his fingers are soaked, Atsumu caresses the round curve of his ass, and brings his hand between his firm cheeks, rubbing the tight, stringy ring of muscle, and then penetrating it with his middle finger. Shouyou sinks his face into the crook of Atsumu’s neck purring and spasming, partly in pleasure and partly in pain. Atsumu feels him stiffen in his arms, becoming hotter and hotter and hotter.

Continuing to torture his earlobe, his fingers become two, then three. He moves them inside Shouyou with the same precision used to set the ball. He’s like a magician doing his tricks.

It's beautiful, satisfying, extraordinary, watching Shouyou melting under his touch, turning into soft butter and molasses. And it’s astonishing watching him swaying his hips just to match the movement of his hands, in a perfect harmony that they’re capable of recreating even on top of a mattress, not just in the middle of the court, during a match or during practice.

Shouyou bites his lip and Atsumu dies a little inside, his eyes liquid with desire and the drops of sweat glistening like iridescent pearls on his temples and chin.

Atsumu wants more, and more, and more.

''Atsumu-san, please.''

_Please, please, please, please._

Shouyou babbles, trembles, whispers. 

Shouyou begs him. 

And Atsumu would like to swallow all those _'please, please, please'_ that slip from his lips.

As soon as he presses a particularly sensitive spot, however, Shouyou chokes, barks, and pinches his ribs hard.

''Atsumu-san'' he growls, tightening his grip and looking for his eyes. ''If you don't fuck me right away, I swear I will.''

Atsumu chuckles a little hysterically and nods, because he doesn't think he'll ever be able to formulate sentences with full meaning again. Shouyou turns away - _it's cold, cold, cold again_ \- and reaches for the bedside table to grab a condom from the drawer.

''Yer hands are shaking'', Atsumu observes with perplexity, while Shouyou's fingers are about to tear off the wrapper.

''Then do it yourself'', the other replied, unable to hide the urgency cracking his voice. Atsumu, smiling crookedly, grabs the plastic wrapper and tries to open it, just to find himself frowning: he can't do it either.

This time it's Shouyou's turn to laugh in amusement. ''Atsumu-san, your hands are shaking more than mine.''

The two of them together finally manage to pull out the condom between some embarrassed snorts. Then Shouyou kisses him again, the urgent lust returns, and then he puts the condom on him.

Atsumu moves on top of Shuyou. For a moment, he has the feeling that someone has stuck his brain in the fryer. Shouyou is looking at him from below, with a genuine, almost grateful - expression stamped on his face, his orangy eyelashes fluttering and his large eyes widened into two golden pools glistening with desire.

Atsumu won't survive.

Shouyou rubs against him, biting his lips raw, but when Atsumu's about to slide in him, he freezes hesitantly.

''Uhm, tell me if I hurt ya'', he mumbles, a little awkward. It's not like he's the romantic or particularly caring type, but can't risk compromising Shouyou's performance on the court. Shouyou is his wing-spiker, after all.

His, his, _his._

That word has a nice ring to it, especially when Atsumu is about to fuck the shit out of him.

Shouyou stares at him stunned, before exhaling a genuine laugh. Atsumu furrows his brow, worried - Shouyou should be screaming at this point, not laughing - but then he cups his face and leaves a kiss on the tip of his nose.

''You're sweet, Atsumu-san'', he explains, before gently laying a second kiss on his chin. ''I like it.''

_Yeah, but do ya like me?_

Atsumu would like to respond by saying something cool, something like 'I'm not sweet and I'm gonna make ya cry'', but instead he remains silent and swallows, nervous.

Sweet. People usually don’t use that adjective to refer back to him. And he doesn't even feel like it, because Atsumu isn’t sweet. Sweet, sweet, _sweet._ It's a word that sounds good, though, if it's Shouyou pronouncing it.

He glides his gaze over his toned, trembling, eager body, his thighs spread wide open.

''Atsumu-san.''

_Fuck me._

He slides in him holding back a groan, and the realization of being hopelessly doomed hits him like the stone his brother threw at him when they were ten, breaking his head, because that strange thing fluttering in his chest cannot be confined solely to mere desire. 

Shouyou's expression while being fucked it's a sight that Atsumu wants exclusively for him. Pleasure permeates his cheeks like the tide as it gradually rises and submerges the shore, his eyes become moist and a comfortable sparkle radiates from their intertwined figures. Atsumu wonders if he's the only one to sense that sort of floating warmth, as he moves inside him gently at first, giving Shouyou a few moments to get used to it. Then he starts to thrust harder, and the sound of the skin flapping echoes in the room, blending with Shouyou's moans and hisses, who grabs his wrists first and then hugs his back, digging his nails into it, scratching like a lynx. 

Atsumu accelerates and increases the intensity, because really, there's nothing more beautiful than looking at Shouyou's body slammed under his lunges, that body that trembles, winces, sobs, like a leaf at the mercy of the storm.

Fucking Shouyou is like fucking the sun, a kind of otherworldly experience never tasted before. It burns, it melts, it hurts, but it's _sweet_.

''Turn around'', Atsumu growls, with the desperate need to possess him from behind. That was supposed to be an order, but it sounds more like a plea.

''Nope!''

Before Atsumu can protest, Shouyou slips out of his arms - _it's cold, it's freezing_ \- and straddles him.

Atsumu gasps as soon as the other lowers his hips, letting his dick slide in his body again. It's so tight, so warm, that galaxies of light flicker back in front of his eyes, colorful squiggles like tropical fishes that curl, entwine, bloom like the corollas of flowers. Hurricane and sun, flat calm and stormy sea, shivers of cold alternating with shivers of pleasure - of fear? Atsumu strings, melts and trembles, his back violated by goosebumps so impetuous that he wonders if his skin won't crack like tempera when it dries.

Atsumu is sure that he’ll die right there, on that bed, in that moment, due to the vortex of sensations - desire? Lasciviousness? L*ve? - that messes with his soul. He feels nauseous and hungry, his stomach is twisted like a sock and there's nothing but that pleasure, that all-consuming agony that intensifies with every thrust. 

He doesn't give a fuck about the noise, he doesn't even understand who's screaming between the two of them. The only thing that really matters is Shouyou, Shouyou with his perfect body lifting and lowering on his cock, Shouyou riding him as if that is the best fuck of his whole life, with tense muscles and dripping sweat.

There's Shouyou whispering, shouting, moaning, begging.

_Shouyou Shouyou Shouyou Shouyu Shouyou Shouyou._

There's some kind of spell in his name, there's everything he wants.

Their breath is melted, their fingers are searching for each other, and nope, nope, _nope_ , Atsumu refuses to believe that what they're doing is just sex. There are the flashing stars and the embarrassment on their cheeks and the saliva everywhere, and then there's something else that rises as comfortably as the steam from the pot that Osamu uses to cook rice.

The electricity becomes so palpable that Atsumu distinctly sense it sizzling under his fingernails, on his taut skin, as he loses himself in Shouyou's amber irises that look at him smiling, irises that resemble pools of liquid pleasure and warmth, irises that are hungry, proud, sincere, good. 

Sweet.

And then the freckles. Freckles that sparkle on his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, like red gold dust. Atsumu wants to count them, one by one, Atsumu wants to connect them together like the connect-the-dots game he used to play when he was a child, because he's damn sure that wonders would come out, he would be able to create new constellations, maps of the universe capable of leading him who knows where.

The orgasm rises, rises and rises again, roars and mounts like an unexpected wave, a flooding river. Atsumu cums inside him in a growl and tears in his eyes, Shouyou cums on his chest with a moan and his teeth bared in a predatory smile.

They pant on each other for a few moments, satisfied - _afraid?_

Atsumu is scared for sure.

Shouyou slowly gets up without a word, slipping away from his body and leaving a bitter feeling of emptiness - and the damn cold returns again.

He grabs some tissues and hands them to Atsumu, who takes off the condom first and finally cleans his chest and abdomen. Shouyou smells good.

He throws everything away, then turns to look at him. Shouyou imperceptibly tilts his head, sitting on the edge of the bed.

_Now what?_

Atsumu doesn't know what to say, or how to react. None of what just happened was planned.

He does know, however, that he doesn't want to leave that room. The physical desire has vanished, but something else is left hissing in his chest, something more persistent and deeper, almost painful. And his heart just doesn't want to stop beating fast.

''Atsumu-san.''

Shouyou's voice echoes in the room, reminding him of crystal glasses.

''Aren't you cold?''

That question catches him off guard, he wasn't expecting it. A shiver runs through his spine. Of course he's cold, he's literally freezing.

''Yes'', he replies, nodding vigorously. Then he clears his throat, embarrassed, because his 'yes' sounded more like a scared squeak.

''Yes, ’m cold'', he repeats more confidently, his teeth chattering.

_Do ya want me to leave?_

''I'm cold too'' says Shouyou frowning, shaking his face upset as if he's been betrayed by his own body. ''And I don't like it.''

Atsumu looks at Shouyou. Shouyou looks at him. 

''Come here'', he whispers.

Atsumu spreads his arms at the same instant Shouyou rolls over him. Then they turn into a ball of blankets and relief, Shouyou exhales a laugh with his face pressed into the crook of his neck. Atsumu kisses his forehead, he wants to do that forever.

''So...''

Shouyou is interrupted by a sudden bang. They both jump, caught off guard. It looks as if someone has kicked the door.

''Next time, for Christ's sake, warn me first so I can move somewhere else!''

Sakusa's voice sounds poisoned. Shouyou gasps, then the panic makes him blush. How cute.

''Forgive us, Omi-san!'' he exclaims, before pressing his face against Atsumu's chest, almost as if he wanted to bury his head under the ground imitating an ostrich.

''Forgive us my ass!'', Sakusa shouts in reply, exasperated. ''And Atsumu, fuck off.''

''Hey, why just me?''

''Because you're the only asshole here. And if you hurt Hinata, I'll kill you. And if I hear you fucking again, I’ll kill you both.''

Then Sakusa walks away with angry steps. Shouyou sighs in pain, with guilt in his eyes. It's adorable.

''Atsumu-san, next time we definitely have to be quieter.''

Next time. He likes that sentence. It sounds good. It sounds sweet.

''Suuure'', he replies then, ironically. He will make Shouyou scream until his voice goes away. ''But now turn around, Shouyou-kun.''

''Huh? Why?''

''I have to count yer freckles. Again.''

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! Sorry again for all the mistakes but oh my god this ff was so difficult to translate ahhaah. I hope that it was still readable!!! Thank you again, see ya! (Oh, that's my [twitter](https://twitter.com/ShouyouHinata10))


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